Blonde, Brown, Silver
by lucky-duck
Summary: Three people are cloned 200 years after the original CB. PG for Vicious's insanity. Chapters 1 - 5 up!
1. Prologue

~Author's Note, added 4-21-03 - I would like to apologize again to Hateful Angel Eyz (an author here at fanfiction.net), and she knows what this is for. I would also like to take this time to say a few things: a.) I know Spike's hair is green. I was going for a more realistic approach. I am also fully aware that maybe in the future green and purple and flaming orange may be real hair colors. b.) Many of you may be confused by the fic. I'm not sure what made this pop out of my mind, but I wrote it for a fanfiction contest at another site and posted it here because I happen to like it. Thanks so much, reviews are welcome!!~  
  
~Author's Note, added 4-23-03 - I decided to make this a series. Go me. Watch for updates!!~  
  
A young woman stood beside a building, looking up to its roof, watching a lone figure perched like a bird on the edge. Her blonde hair waved softly in the breeze, and she held it back with one hand while the other shaded her view from the bright sunset.  
  
The sunset left the figure in shadow, and the only things she knew for sure were that he was tall and his hair was unusually silver. He seemed to scan the landscape, almost as if he was looking for someone or something.  
  
"Julia...?" a man said quizzically, and his arm wrapped around her waist. "What's wrong?"  
  
She looked to him, and smiled when his brown eyes met her blue ones.  
  
"Whatcha lookin' at?" he asked, looking up and shading his own eyes, even though his brown afro seemed to do the work.  
  
"I'm not sure..." she said, looking up to the figure again. "He seems strangely familiar... Does he seem so to you, Spike?"  
  
He stared for a while, then shook his head. "Nah, not at all."  
  
The woman shrugged, and began to walk off. "You comin'?" she asked over her shoulder.  
  
His hand trailed off of her waist, and he continued watching the figure. A crow, high above the building, squawked suddenly, and in a flash of silver, the figure's head snapped down and two eyes, looking as if they were back lit by the sunset, stared down and caught the man's own eyes in a deep, vicious stare.  
  
The man's eyes narrowed as the figure pointed the tip of a katana at him as if to say "I see you, sir, and I dare you to move, for if you do, I will hunt you down and kill you like the animal you are." The crow landed on the figure's shoulder, and the man turned his head slightly, never taking his eyes off the silent figure on top of the building.  
  
"Yeah, Julia. I'm comin'."  
  
He turned and shoved his hand into his pockets and positioned himself into his usual hunch, taking his place by the young woman as they kept walking.  
  
She turned back once more, looking at the figure, who's position had not changed except for the direction he was facing, and his eyes glared at her, his katana glinting in the sunlight.  
  
A momentary smile crossed her face. "Goodbye, Vicious..." she mumbled, before turning away from him and walked down the street.  
  
The figure was left on top of the building. The fading sunset left him in shadow, and his glinting katana lowered in time with his eyelids as his mind ran around in circles about what he saw. His bird lifted off and called out once, and the young, silver-haired man called back to his pet. 


	2. Foreward

The year was 2271 when it happened: three scientists found some preserved bodies on Mars, a brown-haired bounty hunter, a blonde woman, and a silver-haired man. Each had their own pasts, worries, and futures that died when they did at their young ages.  
  
The scientists got curious to what would happen if they lived today, and so they became cloned, each zygote going to a different mother in a different place; the blonde stayed on Mars, the brunette went to a moon of Jupiter, and the silver-hair went to Venus. The three surrogate mothers had not known each other, and never spoke as their "children" grew older.  
  
Twenty years later, the three children, who had been given the names they had kept in their first lives, all moved to Mars with their mothers. The scientists kept a close watch on all of them and had decided that when they turned 25 they'd be told of their pasts and of how they truly related to each other.  
  
The children are no longer children at the time our story starts. They have neither met nor seen each other in public, but, at 23, things are about to change. 


	3. Julia

The young blonde, Julia, tossed and turned in her sleep. For the past week she had been having dreams. Two young men fought each other for her love and friendship, one with a brown afro, and the other with chin-length silver locks, something she had never seen on a man before.  
  
They fought endlessly for her and only her, and, in the end, when they killed each other, she screamed, but managed to wake up before she took their weapons and killed herself with them.  
  
She sat up in her bed, dripping sweat and eyes drooping. All she wanted was some good sleep, something she hadn't gotten since her childhood.  
  
It was only 4:30, but she rolled out of bed anyway, flicking on the lamp by her bed and trudging towards the shower.  
  
She turned it on and felt the hot water running over her hands, and she slipped in silently, the cold porcelain under her feet contrasting the near-boiling water.  
  
She thought of the two young men in her dream, and wondered why it was them she dreamt of. Were they family of hers she had never known? Brothers, cousins, uncles perhaps?  
  
The thought of old lovers in a past life crossed her mind, but she laughed and pushed that idea out of her head. How silly was that?  
  
She threw on a robe and towel-dried her hair as she walked into the kitchen to make herself some breakfast. French toast sounded good.  
  
She opened her fridge and saw that she had no eggs, one of the most important ingredients of her French toast. She sighed once, then decided to get dressed and head down to the market on the corner to buy some.  
  
Why not? She wasn't going back to sleep now. 


	4. Spike

The tall, lanky brunette rolled over in his bed and slapped his alarm, shutting it off. He groaned, and got up slowly.  
  
He grabbed the pair of sweatpants sitting on the chair by his bed as he shuffled outside to get some Jeet Kune Do done before the sun rose and heated everything in the hot summer weather.  
  
He hopped into the pants, ran some fingers through his afro, and had a quick smoke before gently beginning his movements. Like water flowing, it started gently, slight movements of the arms that led to wide, sweeping motions, and as he warmed up, he thought of the dreams he had been having.  
  
A young blonde, smiling at him, then crying in the next minute. A silver-haired man, his best friend, becoming his worst enemy. He fought the silver-haired one in his dream, an even though his opponent defeated him, he was also defeated in return, and neither of the men won. The woman always cried in the end as he was dying.  
  
He thought of the silver-haired man in his dreams, and his workout continued to grow stronger as he thought of fighting this man.  
  
5 am rolled around, and Spike smoked another cigarette to end his workout. Absently feeling into his pockets, he found some change and decided to head to the store a few blocks down, needing the run and the cigs he could buy. 


	5. Vicious

The silver-haired man sat quietly in a corner of his cell in the mental institution. Some years earlier, he had been shot and nearly died, and this drove him insane, almost as if the pain inflicted had awoken some old memories his system still carried. Staring out his window, his pet crow flew by, and he smiled.  
  
A doctor, standing in the doorway, asked him, "So, what do you call yourself."  
  
"Vicious," the young man said without looking to the doctor.  
  
"Why do you call yourself that? Do you have hatred for yourself in your heart?"  
  
"I call myself Vicious because I am Vicious."  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"That is my name. My mother gave it to me."  
  
"Your mother couldn't have named you Vicious. It's a horrible name."  
  
"Would you like to know why she gave me that name?" he asked, but before the doctor could respond, he jumped onto him, long legs wrapped around his waist, face gently cradled into the long fingered hands of the madman.  
  
"She named me Vicious because that's what I am." His face curled into a deadly, curving grin.  
  
"/Veeeeeeeshussssssss/..." he whispered quietly into the doctor's face, before latching his teeth into the doctor's nose.  
  
The doctor screamed, but before anyone else could be properly notified, Vicious snapped his neck and ran, escaping the hospital with ease.  
  
Vicious ran down the street and broke into a clothing store, disabling the alarm and managing to put together a very menacing outfit of plain black boots, black leather pants, a black muscle shirt, and a long black trench coat.  
  
Squealing with the laughter of a madman, Vicious climbed the fire escape of a nearby building to the roof, and ran across the rooftops, nearly flying as he jumped from building to building.  
  
His pet crow called to him, and he cackled back to it in return, and as a nearby clock struck 5, he perched quietly on the corner of an apartment building, watching two people approach the store on the corner from two different directions. 


End file.
